


Yuri Plisetsky v the GPF

by kitausu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Future, Asexual Character, Asexual Yuri Plisetsky, Competition, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, POV Third Person, Slow Burn, Yuri Plisetsky Centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: Hello, my name is Yurochka Plisetsky. I am 19 years old and I am one of the top figure skaters in the world. I live with my coach, Viktor Nikiforov, and his pork cutlet bowl husband. For the past four years I have won bronze or silver at the Grand Prix Final. This is finally my year to win gold!(other than the summary, this fic is in 3rd person POV. I just love the idea of season 2 starting out like this!)





	1. Yuri Plisetsky v The Cold of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a fan of the Yuri(15)/Otabek(18), but I do love the idea of them being best friends for several years before realizing their friendship has evolved over time to something romantic, which is what this fic is hoping to realize. 
> 
> This fic, despite having a Yuri/Otabek ship, while be mostly Yuri-centric (or so the plan goes). 
> 
> Other than that, thanks for reading!

 

The sun was already up when Yurio finally opened his eyes. He hated being stuck in bed, but it was Coach’s orders. Yurio always distinguished between Coach’s orders and Viktor’s orders. They may be the same person, but the two ideas occupied completely different spaces in Yurio’s head.

He had been sick for almost a week, fever too high to even think about leaving his bed, though he certainly tried. It wasn’t until Viktor had loomed over him, eyes gone all serious and steely, that Yurio finally settled down long enough to get better. He was still sick, but he was able to leave his room and get tea and try to eat.

When he finally found the energy to make it out of his room, Viktor was the only other person in the house.

“Yurio! Come get breakfast!” Viktor grinned wildly as he waved his student to the table.

Yuri was probably already out for a run with Kenjirou, but they would most likely be back soon. Everything was always quieter when those two were gone.  Sometimes, Yurio hated that, but right now it was kind of a blessing to the headache still lingering behind his eyes.

He sat across from Viktor and picked at his food sullenly. He wasn’t particularly hungry. His cold was still lingering and his stomach rolled at the smell of fish coming from his plate. Viktor smiled lightly and switched out his plate for a bowl of porridge instead.

“I wasn’t sure how you would be feeling this morning, so I made both.”

“When can we go to the rink?”

Viktor smiled, tilting his head and evaluating his student with sympathy before gently admonishing him, “Yurio, you are still sick. You need to rest.”

He reached out and patted his skater fondly on the cheek. “We’ll get you back out there in no time, but you aren’t helping anyone if you get sick on the ice again.”

Blushing, Yurio turned away, trying not to remember a few days ago when the fish from that morning had ended up on the rink after a failed quad.

“Just take it easy. Kenjirou isn’t going to surpass you in only a week.”

“I’m not worried about Kenjirou! That idiot couldn’t surpass me even if he studied under the best coach in the world! I’m worried about—“

The front door slid open at that moment, revealing Otabek’s stoic expression as he apologized to Yuuri for showing up like this but, “I heard that Yurio was sick and…Yurio.”

He smiled slightly when he saw his friend sitting at the table.

“Oh, are you feeling better, Yurio?” Yuuri took his spot at Viktor’s side, settling in way too close, but those idiots were always in contact one way or another when in the same room.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Russia?”

Otabek settled into the space between Viktor and Yurio.

“I was, but I was already planning on coming here to train with Yuuri, and I heard you were sick, so I came a little earlier to help.”

Yurio’s face had turned purple as he glared at his friend.

“You idiot! Why would you come all the way here just because I was sick! You need to stay on track with your training! I want you in top form when I beat you!”

Otabek’s smile grew as he accepted the plate Viktor passed his way.

“Don’t worry, Yurochka. You’ll still win silver this year.” Otabek patted Yurio’s cheek, ignoring his enraged splutters.

“Beka, please don’t rile up my skater like that. I’m having a hard enough time getting him to rest as it is.”

Otabek tried looking at least mildly apologetic as he nudged Yurio’s bowl a little closer to him to encourage him to eat.

His cheeks went warm under Otabek’s concentrated attention as he waited for Yurio to take a bite. He barely heard Yuuri laughing telling and telling Viktor how Kenjirou had practically sprinted to the rink after seeing Beka.

“One look and he was off. I think he’s really worried about missing the podium this year, but I’m feeling really confident.”

Otabek seemed to be listening to the other two men, but he whispered out of the side of his mouth, without looking at Yurio.

“Eat, Yurochka.”

Otabek was the only one who called him by his full name anymore. Even his grandpa called him Yurio now. The nickname used to annoy him, but after all these years it felt more like his name than Yurochka, or even Yuri.

Taking a bite of the porridge in his bowl, he glanced up at Otabek from under his fringe. His friend was deep in conversation with Yuri and his predictions for this year’s top 6 skaters.

“I really think Kenjirou can do it, then you, and Yurio, of course.”

“What about…”

Yurio tuned them out after that point. As long as he was considered an obvious choice by those two, he wouldn’t worry. Instead, he decided to watch Otabek out of the corner of his eye as he slowly picked at the food in front of him.

Otabek had been his friend since his very first Grand Prix Final. They had stayed in almost constant contact ever since then. Otabek was his best friend, really his first friend, if he was honest. But this past year, it felt like something had shifted.

He worried that they were growing apart, but it didn’t feel like growing apart. If Otabek could put up with him at 15 or worse, 16, he couldn’t see why now, when they were practically equals, Otabek would want to jump ship. Besides, flying across the world because someone was sick wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you did for people you hate.

Yurio wasn’t sure how long he had moved from covertly glancing from behind his bowl, to full out gazing, but he blushed when Otabek caught him staring. Instead of saying anything though, he just nudged Yurio’s shoulder, encouraging him to eat again.

“I want you to be in top form when you beat me, Yurio. So, eat.”

 

It took almost a full week more before Viktor decided that Yurio was well enough to practice. Otabek had stuck around, distracting his friend and practicing when Yurio was asleep. It helped, but barely.

It was nice, being able to sit with Otabek and watch movies and talk to his friend face-to-face instead of worrying about time differences or practice schedules or phone connections. Yurio rarely saw this much of anyone that wasn’t Viktor or Yuuri and, as much as he…tolerated them, he missed Otabek.

“Feeling tired, Yurochka?” Otabek ruffled his hair slightly.

At some point, the credits on the movie they were watching had started to roll, so Yurio must have fallen asleep.

“Hmm, no. But I get to go back to the rink tomorrow, so I better get to sleep.”

Otabek turned off the TV and lights, and walked Yurio to his door before saying goodnight. They kind of stood there, smiling at each other for a while before Yurio turned into his room and shut the door.

It had been nice, surprisingly, being able to lay around and have fun. But, he missed skating. As much as he missed Otabek, he missed skating more. So, while it tinged with a little regret, he didn’t mind the fact that they wouldn’t see each other like this for a long time.

_Probably not until after the Grand Prix Finale._

Just because their coaches were married, didn’t mean anything. Otabek was staying with some friends because there wasn’t much room in their house, with Yuuri, Viktor, Yurio, and Kenjirou. Yuuri and Viktor didn’t even practice at the same rink, afraid of distracting each other and messing up their skaters.

_Yeah, definitely not until after I win gold._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fact that Yuri had seen Viktor, focused and aggressive in his own skating, he hadn’t expected it to transfer to his coaching style. In all honesty, Yuri had expected the sweet and nurturing Viktor that had coached Yuuri to the gold medal at the GPF all those years ago. It had stung when Viktor turned harsh and cold when they got on the ice every day until he finally broke down one night and yelled at his coach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH, I am crazy tired and I'm sure this has a lot of typos and tomorrow I will cringe but I really wanted to get this out. <3

“Again, Yurio.”

Yuri snarled, moving back to the center of the ice to start his short program again. He had only touched down on the ice once, a significant improvement from last week when they decided to add the quad flip.

“Don’t get mad. Focus!”

Viktor’s eyes were hard and uncompromising as he stood in his skates, arms crossed, waiting for Yuri to start again.

Despite the fact that Yuri had seen Viktor, focused and aggressive in his own skating, he hadn’t expected it to transfer to his coaching style. In all honesty, Yuri had expected the sweet and nurturing Viktor that had coached Yuuri to the gold medal at the GPF all those years ago. It had stung when Viktor turned harsh and cold when they got on the ice every day until he finally broke down one night and yelled at his coach.

_“Why are you so mean to me? You never treated Yuuri like this!”_

_Viktor glanced up from his pork cutlet bowl, startled by the mid-dinner outburst._

_“Like what?”_

_“Like you don’t encourage me or…or say nice things, you just tell me to do it again and glare at me!”_

_Blinking owlishly, Viktor sat his chopsticks down and gave Yuri his full attention._

_“Yurio, do you know why I treat you differently from Yuuri?”_

_Yuri struggled to keep the pout off his face, but failed miserably._

_“Yeah, because you wanted to marry him, and I’m just some random guy you’re coaching, right?”_

_The moment stretched for ages in silence before Viktor’s face crumpled._

_“Oh, Yurio. No. That’s-that’s not even close to the truth. I treat you differently because you are different. You respond differently to different techniques because you are different people. Yes, Yuuri is my husband and I love him but, as much as you may hate it, you’re like my son, and I love you too.”_

_Flushing red, Yuri looked anywhere but at his coach. He could still see Viktor smiling at him from his peripheral vision no matter which way he turned. Damn it, he was terrible with all this emotional crap._

_“Can I have a pork cutlet bowl?”_

_Viktor’s incredulous snort forced Yuri to turn back and face him head on._

_“Absolutely not. You can have one only if you win gold at the Grand Prix this year.”_

_“What the fuck?!”_

_“Don’t talk to your father like that!” Yuuri called cheerfully as he and Kenjirou took off their shoes by the door._

_“I hate this family!”_

_“That’s the spirit, Yurio!” Viktor grinned as he took another huge bite out of his own pork cutlet bowl before offering the rest to his husband and asking about Kenjirou’s practice._

It was after their argument that Yuri really started to notice how Viktor and Yuuri treated him. He hadn’t thought about it before, but there was always some treat from Russia in the kitchen. Originally, he had thought he was stealing them from Viktor until he realized Viktor hated the candies Yuuri kept buying, while they were always one of Yuri’s favorites.

Viktor may tell him off on the rink, but he always had a cup of tea ready for Yuri in the morning.

He had been so wrapped up in his own insecurities, he hadn’t noticed all the things his bizarre little family had been doing to make him happy.

“What are you thinking about? Focus, Yurio! You haven’t missed the quad lutz in weeks, that was the worst one yet!”

Yuri gritted his teeth and moved back into position with a snarled, “Yes, Coach!”

“Again!”

 

By the time they made it home that night, Yuri was exhausted. It felt like every muscle in his body ached, including ones that didn’t exist.

“Go take a bath, soak and get some rest before dinner.”

Yuri nodded, already heading in the direction of his room to feed Sasha.

“And Yurio…”

He glanced over his shoulder curiously, one hand on the door.

“You did good today.”

Viktor smiled as he turned on his heel and headed in the direction of his and Yuuri’s room.

Yuri’s face was still beet read when Yuuri, Kenjirou, and Otabek showed up 10 minutes later from their own practices.

He could hear Kenjirou’s voice echoing down the hallway, gushing about how “I landed all of my jumps perfectly! It’s the first time I was able to skate a clean program! This is all thanks to Yuuri, he is the best in the world!”

“Kenjirou…” Yuuri sounded embarrassed as his skater continued to wax poetic about Yuuri’s coaching skills.

Yuri was seriously considering putting his headphones on to block out the noise when he heard a knock at his door.

“Yura? Can I come in?”

Otabek’s voice filtered through the barrier separating Yuri from the too high level of energy in the rest of the house.

“Come in, Beka.”

Flopped out on his back in bed the way he was, he could only hear the open and closing of his door and the soft sound of Otabek’s feet on the floor as he walked to the edge of the bed. Eventually, his friend’s face came into view, peering down at him while he stood beside Yuri’s head.

“What are you doing?”

“Dying.” Yuri deadpanned.

Beka just chuckled before climbing onto the bed beside his friend. The mattress wasn’t particularly large so they ended up pressed entirely together from shoulder to toe. The lay like that for a while, each just looking up at the ceiling for several minutes until Yuri couldn’t take it anymore.

“How was your practice?”

Otabek smiled absently, still keeping his eyes on the ceiling as he spoke.

“It was good. Yuuri is a strict coach, but he knows what he is doing.”

Yuri had never been taught by Yuuri before, but he had a hard time imagining the other skater as being anything close to strict.

They continued in silence for a while, Yuri growing increasingly fidgety until the entire bed was shaking and Otabek couldn’t help but notice.

“Is everything okay, Yura?”

“Are you going to be my boyfriend or what?”

He instantly clapped both hands to his own mouth in astonishment. He couldn’t believe he had said that. Yuri had been thinking about that time in Barcelona when Beka had asked him to be his friend and…well…

“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

Neither of them would look away from the ceiling, but Yuri hoped Otabek’s face was as red as he knew his was.

His voice came out as a choked whisper when he finally managed to force a “Yes” past his lips.

Otabek just smiled, interlacing their fingers together so he could draw Yuri’s knuckle to his lips.

“Alright, then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a lot of ways, it was even worse now than it had been when they were living in different countries. At least then, Yuri didn’t have to think about what they could have been doing if Beka was just in the same room as him. There was no question about who they were to each other then, and Yuri didn’t have to think about it too much.

Despite the fact that Yuri and Otabek had agreed to start dating, nothing really changed. Yuri supposed it could have to do with the fact that they were already so close, physical contact was never something they had shied away from between the two of them.

But, it mostly boiled down to the fact that even though they were only 15 minutes away from each other at any given time, they were living in separate places, practicing at separate rinks, and basically living separate lives.

In a lot of ways, it was even worse now than it had been when they were living in different countries. At least then, Yuri didn’t have to think about what they could have been doing if Beka was just in the same room as him. There was no question about who they were to each other then, and Yuri didn’t have to think about it too much.

Sure, Beka came over most nights after practice to sit and watch a movie or read with Yuri’s head in his lap, but they were both so exhausted, they often barely spoke and more often than not had to be shaken awake by Yuuri or Viktor because they had fallen asleep on the couch and it was time for Otabek to go home.

It was harder to push thoughts of Otabek out of his mind now that he knew what he could have if only there was enough time in the week.

He was stuck, daydreaming about last week, sitting in Otabek’s lap, his mouth pressed to the juncture of his boyfriend’s shoulder and neck, not kissing or doing anything, just holding each other in silence, feeling Beka’s breath on his ear--

“Yurio!”

Viktor’s blade guard slammed into the side of Yuri’s head with enough force to make him stagger.

“What the hell was that? I haven’t messed up a single thing in the short program routine all morning!”

For once, Viktor looked furious.

“You haven’t messed anything up in the technical, sure. But what is the story? What are you conveying to me? Right now, you’re giving me nothing.”

That was the thing about Viktor’s coaching style. He prized the emotional connection between the skater and the audience just as much as the technical execution. It was something Yuri still struggled with, even after working with him off and on for the better part of four years.

“Take a moment, try again. Convey the story to me, Yurio.”

Taking a few minutes to skate around the perimeter of the rink, Yuri tried to connect back to the story he was trying to convey this year. Yuuri had suggested “growing up” as a joke, but something about it had really stuck with him.

His short program was supposed to convey that feeling of loss he had experienced after the Grand Prix when he was 15. He had been so sure of his success and it had crushed him to land in second place. He had tried his best, and at the time, it just hadn’t been good enough.

The idea that he may never be good enough had hit him hard. He struggled with the idea that maybe silver was all he was good enough to achieve, and the short program was meant to convey that sadness and hopelessness.

Viktor turned the music on in the background, letting it play while Yuri made lazy spins in the center of the rink.

The short program was meant to set the stage for the free program, where he would realize that the feeling of hopelessness and loss, while real, wasn’t all that there was. There are friends and family and so much more. The free program was meant to express the realization that at 15, his life had barely started, and even at 19, he didn’t know where he would end up, but he would try his best, always.

Yuri let himself see that, to feel that despair and to realize that failure is important as a building block. He skated the perimeter one last time as the final notes of the song echoed throughout the hall, before moving back to the center of the rink.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Viktor hit play, and the music started again.

 

The bath was almost boiling when Yuri lowered himself into the tub. He had been practically nonverbal since leaving the rink that night. Connecting with the feelings of his past self had left him feeling drained. Viktor had seemed pleased though, even though he had put one hand down on the quad flip again, his coach seemed to think it was the best run through so far.

Viktor also had the decency not to point out the way Yuri’s eyes were shining with tears at the end.

He let himself sit in the scalding tub until the water ran cold. By the time he got out, he was shivering, but feeling much more like himself.

He dressed slowly, taking a final few minutes to find himself again before joining the others in the kitchen. Surprised, he spotted a pork cutlet bowl at his place at the table.

“Yurio! I heard you had an amazing practice today. Viktor had some things to take care of with Otabek, so it’s just going to be the three of us tonight.” Yuuri winked conspiratorially as he gestured for Yuri to take a seat.

Kenjirou, he noticed, was eating something leafy and boring.

“Yuuri says I didn’t practice very well today.” Kenjirou looked close to tears as he watched his coach and housemate eat the delicious meal.

Even four years down the road, and after working with Yuuri as his coach, Kenjirou still acted like the sun rose and sank over Yuuri’s ass and criticism stung.

Despite that, Yuri and Yuuri both knew that Kenjirou’s practice tomorrow would blow them all out of the water as he tried to prove he was worth the time.

Viktor said it was cruel, but hey, if it worked, it worked, in Yurio’s opinion.

After dinner, Yuuri quietly brought his laptop to the table and turned on the video of the last run through of Yuri’s short program from practice today.

Watching himself on screen. Yuri guessed he was starting to understand why Viktor was so adamant about the story he conveyed.

 

Yuri was disappointed when Viktor came home alone that night. It was late, so he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he hadn’t seen Otabek face to face in almost a week and his chest was starting to ache with the need.

Catching the look on his skater’s face, Viktor patted Yuri on the head fondly.

“He wanted to come, but he was under strict orders from Yuuri to go to bed as soon as we were done.”

Yuri wanted to be mad that Yuuri had taken their time away from each other, but he knew, as Otabek’s coach, Yuuri was just doing what was in his best interest.

It didn’t stop him from missing his boyfriend though.

 

When he went to his room later that night, he greedily looked for the text notification he got every night.

_Goodnight, Yurochka. Sleep well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about what song I was thinking about for Yurio's short program, here is a link!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM20fE_FVQw


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Yuri had asked Otabek to date over a month ago, they had grown distant, more so then they had ever been since Yuri was 15 and in Barcelona for his first shot at the Grand Prix final. They still texted every day, but now Yuri worried if he was annoying Beka. His responses were often short and he rarely described his day. It would probably do them some good to spend time together outside of technology.
> 
> Yuri tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that Otabek was just a few minutes away right now, and yet they weren’t together, so how would Skate America be any different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahead! But, don't worry, I can't keep up angst to save my life. It'll just be this chapter and little of the next. I think, also, this may be coming to the end! I have some ideas of where I want to take this, but I'm not sure how to finish it.
> 
> Tbh, I probably should have sat on this one a bit longer in the revising process, but I really wanted to get something out since it had been a while. Hopefully you enjoy!

When the assignments came out for the Grand Prix, Yuri wasn’t sure if he was thrilled or upset that he and Otabek would be at Skate America together. He needed to be entirely focused and being around Otabek was the opposite of focused these days.

Ever since Yuri had asked Otabek to date over a month ago, they had grown distant, more so then they had ever been since Yuri was 15 and in Barcelona for his first shot at the Grand Prix final. They still texted every day, but now Yuri worried if he was annoying Beka. His responses were often short and he rarely described his day. It would probably do them some good to spend time together outside of technology.

Yuri tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that Otabek was just a few minutes away right now, and yet they weren’t together, so how would Skate America be any different.

He was pleased to see he wouldn’t have to leave Japan again until the Grand Prix Finale with the NHK Trophy as his second assignment.

Otabek would be at the Rostelecom Cup.

Yuri thought about going to watch, he would get to see his Grandpa if he did, but something held him back from committing. He didn’t want to annoy Beka.

 

With the assignments out, the urgency in practices with Viktor from before only increased. Viktor, already so tough on Yuri, was no nonsense, banning phones and subsequently, Otabek, during practice hours.

“I want your full attention, Yurio. You need to be able to access the feelings needed for your program no matter what is going on. You need—“

“I know!”

Yuri snapped, moving to the center of the ice and waving imperiously for the music to start.

He had a competition to win. He couldn’t waste time thinking about Otabek and they both already knew that’s who Viktor was talking about anyway.

 

The time for Skate America came sooner than expected, the time flying by faster than Yuri had ever felt. Before he knew it, the announcers voice was booming throughout the rink, introducing the last skater before him, as Yuri took his headphones out and handed them to Viktor. They had passed Otabek and Yuuri as they moved to the ice, but Yuri ignored them both, and for once, Viktor and Yuuri kept to themselves. Yuri didn’t want to think about what Otabek thought when he walked by.

This was the first competition since he was 15 that they hadn’t at least texted each other, _davai._ It hurt to think that, by asking for more, he had destroyed what they had. He had all but accepted the idea that he had lost his first friend. It hurt, but he could use that.

He stepped out onto the ice to the sound of his own name and  looked down, his eyes focusing on his own shadow reflected against the ice.

The music started to play.

 

Otabek watched as Yuri moved fluidly across the ice. This was the first time he had heard Yuri’s music or seen any of his short program.

Yuuri was watching too, smiling softly as Yuri executed a perfect quad lutz.

“His theme is growing up. This song is about feeling hopeless and lost after his failure at the Grand Prix when he was fifteen.”

Otabek balked, half surprised and half furious at the words of his temporary coach.

“He didn’t _fail._ A silver medal isn’t failing.”

Yuuri turned away from the program and stared at Otabek for a long moment.

“You feel that way, because you love him.”

Yuuri waited for some kind of denial, but Otabek was firmly transfixed on Yuri and the final quad flip of his short program.

“Yuri is very hard on himself. He feels that if anything doesn’t live up to his expectations, it’s a failure. Try to remember that.”

Otabek didn’t acknowledge the words. Kenjirou was up soon, so Yuuri left him to find his other charge.

Yuri looked radiant but subdued in the kiss and cry.

They were going to have to talk soon.

 

The Skate America podium had fallen prey to Yuuri and Viktor once again, or so the headline said. Yuri admired the way his gold medal reflected the light, trying to ignore Otabek and his silver or Kenjirou and his bronze.

Even retired, Yuuri and Viktor couldn’t seem to stay away from gold.

“Two medals is basically the same as a gold!” Yuuri gaped as Viktor refused to kiss his husband, _not until one of your students wins gold._

“It is not! If you melted down Otabek’s silver and Kenjirou’s bronze it still wouldn’t be gold.”

“Viktor!”

Yuri tuned out their squabbling, used to it after knowing them for so long. When he looked up, Otabek was staring at him. His gaze was intense and full of meaning and it scared Yuri.

He knew what this was going to be about. When Otabek tried to move towards him, Yuri ran.

 

Because they were staying in the hotel, it was hard avoiding Otabek, but somehow, he managed. Thankfully, they hadn’t been able to book flights together, so Viktor and Yuri arrived back in Japan several hours later than Yuuri, Kenjirou, and Otabek.

His current plan was to just avoid Otabek for the rest of his life so he could never break up with him. They may never see each other again, but at least they would be together. He knew he was being childish, but right now, Yuri couldn’t think of anything better.

He admitted to himself that he was somewhat jetlagged. Which was why it took him several moments to register Otabek sitting outside their door.

“Beka, what—“

“I have to talk to you.”

They were the same height now when Otabek stood, but he would always be bulkier then Yuri, and he felt it in the way Otabek so easily blocked the door frame behind him.

Yuri frantically looked around for a lifeline, but Viktor simply edged past them with a wave and slammed the door. _Coward,_ Yuri thought, bitterly.

“I really don’t have time for this.”

Yuri tried to edge by too, by Otabek’s hand on his arm stopped him, an iron vice around his bicep.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me, so I’m not letting you go until we talk.”

Yuri thought about struggling, but knew it was more trouble than it was worth.

Taking Otabek’s hand instead, he led him out onto the street, heading for the nearby park. They didn’t speak until they made it to the swing set and Yuri tried to memorize the feel of Otabek’s hand in his. It felt good outside, peaceful out in the dark, walking carefully to the swings in the limited light. This would be a good last memory together.

Finally, Yuri took a seat on the damp swing and looked up at his boyfriend.

“If you want to break up, just say so.”

Watching him carefully, Otabek’s face was neutral and showed none of the surprise and denial Yuri was hoping for.

“I just don’t want you to have to pretend anymore, Yuri.”

Yuri stopped dead, digging his heels into the soft gravel in shock to stop the gentle swing he had started up.

“I love you, Yura. And I knew it would hurt, when I agreed to date you. We’ve been dancing around each other since you were 15, and I knew…I knew that you must have some idealized ideas of what dating me would be like. When we stopped interacting like normal, I knew I must have fallen short and—“

The loud crack of Yuri’s fist hitting the side of Otabek’s face echoed strangely in the empty park. Yuri didn’t even remember standing, but it didn’t matter. He was so angry he could barely see straight.

“You asshole! You absolute asshole! You could have come to me! I’ve been waiting for you to—have you, have you just been waiting for me to break up with you? Is that what this is about? You idiot!”

Yuri was furious. He barely saw the blood dripping down Otabek’s lip where Yuri’s punch had split the skin. It all blended into the red haze clouding his vision. To make it worse, Otabek said nothing. He just stood there, letting the blood drip down his chin, watching Yuri as if he was some scared little kitten.

“Is this what you think of me? That I’m so stupid I can’t tell a person from a dream? Oh, poor Yuri, he’s so childish, I’ll just date him out of pity then, won’t I?”

Otabek was starting to look seriously alarmed, but Yuri didn’t he care. He didn’t care about anything outside of the way his heart was trying to beat out of his chest.

He couldn’t think of anything else to do but run, ignoring the cry of _Yura_ from behind him. His face was hot with tears and exertion when he slammed back into the living room where Yuuri and Viktor were watching a movie.

They both jumped, startled by the noise and the look of panic on Yuri’s face.

“Yurio! What happened?”

He couldn’t speak, he could barely breath as he let Yuuri guide him to the couch and settle Yuri between him and Viktor, both of them murmuring soothing nonsense words to try and calm him.

Neither asked any questions, but Yuri could tell they were giving each other meaningful looks over his head. He was too exhausted to care and instead simply fell asleep with his head on Viktor’s shoulder, suddenly too tired to even keep his eyes open.


End file.
